


destroy with a sweet kiss

by urca



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bondage, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emotional Hurt, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Getting Back Together, Knifeplay, Pegging, Under-negotiated Kink, emotional resolution, inappropriate and maybe unrealistic uses of magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:13:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/urca/pseuds/urca
Summary: "Yen, trust me," Geralt bit out between his teeth, "I do not have any power over you granted by the djinn, nor do I want power over you. I want you to have that power." He let out a breath. "All the power your heart could ever desire."
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 18
Kudos: 149





	destroy with a sweet kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I want to put a warning here for a small amount of blood, but it’s not much and goes away quickly. Putting it as a tag seemed like making too big a deal of it.
> 
> This is not as dark as it sounds idk. Perhaps there are problematique elements... Well, it is what it is. Which is a lot of emotional resolution leading up to sex, large power imbalances, one rogue quote from black sails and a quote from the books - which I have not read. I have only watched the TV show. Also I have nothing to say for myself.

"No, you lie," Yennefer hissed. "You wished for our fates to be bound together, you wished for power over me, you took away my freedom, my choice to decide my own fate!"

He had found her in the ash after the battle against Nilfgaard. Yennefer felt the hum of the power she had unleashed still buzzing in her limbs, the raw excruciating freedom of beginning to let out that pain at last. But it was dampened by the sight of Geralt looking half-dead, and the thought that he could be stumbling into her life again simply because of some preordained destiny she could have no say in. Deeper still, the sharp longing for the time they had spent in this very tent, before she had begun to fear that the feelings they shared were not real, before everything had been soured by the poison of doubt. 

She felt like a stinging wound.

"Yen, I would never do that," Geralt growled. She turned away. "All those years ago with the djinn, I merely wished for you to _live_."

Yennefer whirled back to him, her gaze glinting like a blade in the dim light. "And why should I believe you?" The rawness of emotion and chaos rose like a storm within her-- did Geralt not know this was her greatest fear, to be so powerless she could not even determine her own destiny, to be important only as a pawn? “Why?” Her question hung in the air between them. On it balanced their future together, or apart.

Geralt shook his head just slightly. "I can offer you no reason. But if there were anyway I could prove to you, with magic, with a spell, that I told the truth--"

"Enough." She took a step closer and looked up at him. "It's pointless."

Geralt closed his eyes, what color was left draining from his face. His shoulders bowed under a weight. "Yen..." Geralt fell to his knees in the dirt, wincing at the wound in his leg, his head bowed. His voice broke. "Please."

Yennefer hated how hard the world pulled at her heart as she stood poised to leave. Leave for what purpose, she wondered--an empty life full of many empty lifetimes, but she would rather face emptiness than be controlled by a man with whom nothing was real. She looked down at Geralt in front of her, her heart still whirling from the pain and rage of battle, of having to fight for people who had never fought for her.

"You cannot even defend yourself, when the woman you claim is important to you is leaving you?"

"Hm,” Geralt grunted.

Yennefer rolled her eyes. "Speak," she said desperately. "Tell me why I should ever desire to see you again." 

Geralt sighed. "You told me once you wanted everything.” He looked up slowly to meet her eyes, and she shivered at the memory. “And so I want everything for you, everything in life. I never wanted power the way you want power. I didn't want destiny. I’ve had enough of that for several lifetimes.” Geralt shook his head and let out a humorless laugh. “Least of all do I want you bound by destiny against your will. If destiny binds us I want it to be your choice."

"Easy for you to scoff at destiny when it has already promised you a _child_. Never wanted power..." Yennefer mocked, spitting the words, circling him until she stood behind him. "And you don't even know what you'd be if they hadn't made you a Witcher. What a pair we make."

Geralt snorted at her bitterness, then drew a sharp intake of breath and growled as Yennefer held a knife to his throat. With her other hand she pulled him sharply back by the hair until he bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Yen, _trust me_ ," Geralt bit out between his teeth, "I do not have any power over you granted by the djinn, nor do I want power over you. I want you to have that power." He let out a breath. "All the power your heart could ever desire."

Yennefer's heart pounded like a drum, and she pressed the knife just a little harder against Geralt's throat, lifting his chin. He exhaled sharply as she made him arch back.

"Will you swear it on your blood?" Her eyes caressed his bared neck, this vulnerability he gave freely to her. Even now he had no thought of fighting her. Her eyes flickered back up to his.

"If that's what you want," Geralt said with his usual irritability.

“Tell me, why would you desire all the power in the world-- for me?” she asked, quiet, in his ear.

Geralt carefully took a deep breath, and a strange smile appeared on his lips. “Because if that is what you desire, I can think of nothing better." The knife was still at his throat. He was silent for a moment. Then with a sigh, his voice little more than a murmur, "I always say too much. I wished for you to live…so that I might do whatever it takes to bring you happiness."

Yennefer let out a quiet breath. A shudder. "If that is true…" It was like a flower slowly opening, this realization that her happiness was so enmeshed with his own that it took the greatest importance to him. That he would bind himself to her on a whim. In the room where she had nearly killed herself trying to capture the djinn, he had seen a woman in pain and had wanted to lift that pain. 

She shivered in the night breeze that blew in from outside. It was as if his words had set a charge in the air. "If that is true...then you have condemned yourself to me." With a wave of her hand she wrapped chains around Geralt’s wrists. They slithered slowly up his arms, tightening, tightening. 

“Yen, _fuck_ ,” Geralt grunted in confusion, straining against his bonds. "I would not lie to you, please _listen_ to me."

Yennefer walked to stand before him, letting her eyes graze slowly over him, from his knees spread in the dirt, to his bloodied thigh, the dirtied front of his shirt over his heaving chest, his hair lying in a mess on his shoulders--to his expression of confusion and hurt. She raised her brows. “If you wish me all the power I could desire, surely you cannot begrudge me having power over you.”

Geralt was breathing hard from his efforts but stilled. “I see," he growled. His hair was stuck to his forehead with sweat. Yennefer thought she noticed a change in his complexion, as if her words had had an effect on him. "As long as you know I would never meddle with your ability to determine your own fate. Nothing about my wish forbids you from never seeing me again...even from killing me."

“Then lift your chin," Yennefer commanded.

Geralt looked up instantly to meet her eyes, and glanced with suspicion at the blade she held once more to his throat.

“ _Do you believe me, Yen?_ ” he gritted out angrily between his teeth. “Do you want me to beg? I will."

Yennefer held his gaze and smiled slowly. She watched him swallow against the knife at his throat, then drew the blade across his skin. Geralt inhaled sharply in surprise as the thin line bloomed with blood. Yennefer rested her thumb against the shallow cut and pressed-- pressed until Geralt groaned low in his throat, half snarl, half moan.

“Is it that you trust me not to slit your throat,” Yennefer asked with raised brows, “or that you’d let me?”

Wordless, dazed, Geralt looked at her lips. Yennefer pressed her bloodied thumb to his lip and brought him into a sudden kiss, taking, taking, feeling Geralt mold himself to her touch and melt with relief into her hunger, meeting it with his own. And with the hot meeting of their lips Yennefer felt her doubt burn away. Her heart still whirled from Geralt's words. It filled her with awe--the reverence in the way he kissed her. She almost felt that if she clung too hard to this moment it would disappear, but it only made her want to seize it more. They finally pulled apart, Yennefer drinking in the feeling of her hands in his hair, the softness at the end of their kiss.

His blood was still on her fingertips.

She looked deep into his eyes as she held his face. "Why would you condemn yourself to me, why would you make such a wish?" 

"You say that as if I should regret it."

Yennefer was aware he hadn't answered her question. But the look betrayed in his eyes was enough. It stole her breath. She searched his eyes for a long time, not even to search but simply to see, then lifted his face for a long, deep kiss.

"A mark on your body from every monster you’ve ever slain, and now one from the sorceress whose heart you’ve taken." 

“Perhaps it's fitting then," Geralt replied. "And how am I to know you haven’t bewitched me and rewritten my destiny?"

Yennefer's smile faded, her skin prickling with the power and hurt swirling around her. She searched his eyes. “Don’t treat me like I’m someone else." She remembered lying beside him, confessing that she wanted to become important to someone, someday-- the kind of thing that could only be given, not taken as she feared Geralt had taken from her. Given as Geralt had given himself to her. She thought Geralt knew she could never make herself give up such a want.

"Forgive me, Yen," Geralt whispered. "I spoke rashly."

"It is forgiven then," Yennefer said.

"Yen?" Geralt asked in confusion, as she helped him to his feet and led him towards her bed. But he let himself be led, his hands still bound. 

When he collapsed on the bed with a groan she straddled him and looked down into his eyes. "This isn't punishment." He breathed harder as chains bound him hand and foot to her bed. She placed her hand on his throat--a collar of chains appeared to match those snaking around his wrists, ankles, and across his chest. She raised her brows with the hint of a playful smile. "Unless you want it to be."

"Mm." Geralt groaned as Yennefer stripped his armor and clothes away with a wave of her hand. He tested the bonds again, cold beads of sweat forming on his skin, his wild hair spread across the pillows of her bed.

"And it’s not just what I want." Yennefer cast off her dress and felt the cool night air kiss her bare skin, raising goosebumps-- it was the feeling of a fire being lit, of anticipation. She smiled and let out a small laugh, self-satisfied, as she looked down at him. "Do you not enjoy being at the mercy of a powerful sorceress, Witcher?"

Geralt grunted in pain as he moved his wounded leg. "Not any sorceress." His eyes were sharp points of yellow light looking up at her as he growled, "Only you."

_Why me?_

_Do you not already know?_

Yennefer exhaled slowly into the air between them. It was all real. The nights she had spent thinking of him, or wishing she never would again. The mornings when he was gone, and the times he remained. She wouldn't say now how those moments made her feel, but she could say, holding his gaze, "Terrible job you're doing of making me happy so far, by the way."

Geralt let out a irritated but humorous breath and she kissed him, swift as a cobra striking. Geralt leaned up into her kiss as she climbed on top of him, grinding against his erection, feeling him respond underneath her, like two ocean waves finally crashing together. They kissed open mouthed and hungry, Yennefer's fingers in the roots of Geralt's hair.

" _Yen_ ," Geralt whispered, as her hair fell around him, enveloping him with her familiar scent. He groaned again when he saw what she had conjured--a harness which she strapped to her hips. She polished the head of the wooden cock with oil, and noticed how Geralt has gone still watching her, though he was breathing hard.

She glanced up to meet his gaze and felt electricity charge the space between them. She thought about the feeling in the past of riding him, feeling his chest heaving under her hands, his hips meeting the movement of her own, but this time...

"Yen," Geralt rasped, "never one for subtlety."

"Frightened you might like it too much?" she asked pointedly.

"You're welcome to frighten me," Geralt countered.

Yennefer snorted and glanced down at his lips. "You're taunting me now? _That_ will get you nowhere."

"Hm."

Geralt stiffened as the chains binding him to the bed constricted further. Yennefer looked at him, her breath catching, as Geralt found himself powerless to her magic. He could only watch, notice the goosebumps raised on her breasts in the cool night air, the waves of her dark hair falling over her shoulders, the curves of her hips. Her hands began to rub his chest--as they kissed, as she ground her naked body against him, and her hand strayed down to his thigh--

She lifted his wounded leg gently. Geralt winced, jaw clenched--Yennefer watched the scarred skin of his chest rising and falling under the chains that held him down. His cock lay against his stomach, hard and wet with arousal, the same arousal that she felt throbbing inside her and like fire running along her skin. Geralt caught his breath as she guided the shaft of the wooden cock inside him. “ _Yen_.” The sound of her name fell from his lips in a deep sigh.

Yennefer silenced him with a slow kiss, and with a sigh began to move, moving her hips into him, feeling the fire run along her skin where their bodies were joined. She gasped at the feeling. the way the harness rubbed against her clit with every thrust, filling her with pleasure, how it felt when Geralt's body responded to her every movement-- his head thrown back, back arched, breath coming in short bursts through his teeth. She shivered again.

Again Yennefer found his mouth with hers. They kissed now with the same wild abandon of their first time together--kissing deeply for so long they had to gasp against each other's mouths, Yennefer's hands in Geralt's hair, his lips against her cheek, her mouth on his throat. She kissed the red line that marked his skin, sank her teeth into the side of his neck. Geralt bit his own lip hard to stop himself from groaning, gave up and swore.

Yennefer's hair hung in her face, her skin hot with sweat. She thrust harder, harder still, gripping Geralt by his hips, lifting one of his hard thighs over her shoulder, bending him in half. When she touched his cock he breathed hard, tossing his head, unable to do anything but look at her and let her fuck him.

Geralt gave a low moan, making his hands into fists around here chains binding his arms. Yennefer smiled slowly, widely, her eyes flickering from Geralt's mouth back up to his eyes. "Finding it hard to move?"

Geralt's gaze was dark with love and lust, as if he had been bewitched--chosen to be bewitched. "You could make it harder."

Another taunt. Yennefer stopped abruptly, felt power prickle along her skin as she turned Geralt roughly onto his stomach. He grunted in surprise, the muscles of his back straining under Yennefer's hands. The chains bound him tighter to the bed, crossing his back, wrapping around his waist. Geralt growled. He turned his head to the side to look back at Yennefer.

She brushed his disheveled hair from his face with gentleness, and watched how his yellow eyes were fixed on her with some sort of insane devotion. Geralt glanced down at her hand, where she held an object she had conjured-- a gag.

"What does this do for you, Yen?" he asked, his voice rough.

She held his gaze steadily. "I think you know."

Yennefer watched as he let out a soft breath and he waited for her to move. She pressed the gag into his mouth and pulled it slowly, carefully tighter, tighter until Geralt groaned deep in his throat-- in pleasure or pain or both she did not know, only that the sound sent a thrill through her, down into the boiling chaos at her core. The yellow of Geralt's eyes burned in the darkness until his eyelids fell closed.

She knew Geralt would rather be looking into her eyes. Now he could not look at her but to crane his neck, could barely move. The chains glinting in the darkness, binding his broad shoulders, the scarred muscles, the long lines of his back straining under her hands, how he breathed raggedly around the gag, the perfect curve of his ass, the flex of his thighs--arousal like electricity ran through her.

Yennefer let out a sigh. She ate it all up. The way Geralt groaned as she thrust into him, how he rocked back against her, his teeth bared around the gag. He did this beautifully, even more than she could have imagined. He let her force from him sounds she never thought he would make, the desperate moans and soft delerious pants. With a hand fisted in his hair she lifted his head back. She felt the wetness growing between her legs, and heat flushing through her, just at the thought of how much he liked this, how much he trusted her to fuck him like this. He would have bruises where her fingers had dug into the sides of his ass.

She let her eyes fall closed. Felt Geralt giving himself to her. The smoothness of her skin against his. Listened to the air full of their mingled sighs. Found scars on his back with her lips and kissed and kissed, making him arch back as she thrust her hips harder, her mouth pressed against the side of his throat, her face in his hair, the scent of his sweat, her smaller body perfectly fitting with his-

Until he came, breathing hard, Yennefer's cry of pleasure mixed with his.

Geralt found himself one his back, the gag being carefully removed from his mouth, Yennefer slowly kissing him. She felt him sigh into her mouth. As Yennefer raised herself up above him, Geralt left soft kisses on her breasts, her wounded belly--

She climbed up to spread her thighs on either side of his face, and grind against his mouth, until the pleasure built in her core like fire, running out of her every pore. Geralt groaned under her, eyes closed. He lapped up everything she had to offer and she could hardly feel where he ended and she began, the flat of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, the building sensation of his kisses, his tongue against her clit, while her hands were tangled in his hair, rooted to him. He kissed her like he would her mouth as her thighs began to tremble. Perhaps he knew how much she liked to feel him groan in pleasure under her, how it made her grind her hips forward, heat building inside her and pleasure shivering down her spine.

She cried out wildly and finally became still. Below her Geralt turned his face against her thigh and laid a tender kiss there. He looked wrecked, yet somehow at peace.

She lay beside him. The marks on his skin had were beginning to fade, but not the one across the front of his throat. Her thumb stroked the thin, fresh scar as she studied him.

"A mark," Geralt said quietly, his voice rough. "To signify what? That I'm yours?" Yennefer raised her eyebrows. "That what you choose in life is more important than my pleasure or pain?"

Yennefer didn't answer, but smiled and leaned down slowly to press her lips to the scar. When she pulled back, Geralt's eyes were closed, on his mouth the hint of a smile.


End file.
